


Tuesdays are Not Good Days for Sam Winchester

by Monstacatz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sabriel - Freeform, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 10:24:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14590983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstacatz/pseuds/Monstacatz
Summary: Gabriel dies on a Tuesday.





	Tuesdays are Not Good Days for Sam Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> Hi I’m back with some quickly jotted down angst, sorry for the pain! 
> 
> I promise I don’t actually want Gabriel dead and if they do kill him I’ll cry for the whole hiatus.
> 
> Edit: WHAT THE LITERAL FUCK BUCKLEMMING WHY YOU GOTTA DO ME THIS WAY

Gabriel dies on a Tuesday. 

In the middle of the Apocalypse Universe, in a battle against his not-quite brother, although he’s not the archangel that stabs him. 

Instead, he dies by his own hand; stabbed by the alternate version of himself who survived this worlds Michael’s wrath by not running away from heaven, but helping him kill their Lucifer. 

He goes down without a sound, too shocked by his own face staring maliciously at him and the distant thought of ‘how many times do I have to fight someone else that looks like me’. 

Nobody sees, nobody but Sam Winchester, who suddenly drops the angel he’s been fighting with a surge of adrenalin and sprints over, catching Gabriel as he falls. 

The other Gabriel has already flown off, knowing he’s done his part in this war. 

“No, no Gabriel please.” His voice is panicked as he staggers to his knees, the smaller man laying half across his lap. 

Some grace leaks from the wound in his chest that is far too close to the place Sam had seen another angel blade go through in another world. 

But that time he hadn’t been close to Gabriel, he hadn’t had as much reason to become attached. 

This time was different. This time there had been something between them, something that had stemmed from cut stitches and muttered reassurances, from “I need you’s” that slipped out unbidden during speeches that probably should have been more practical than emotional. 

Something that had come about without either of them quite noticing, jealousy after a quick fling that had thrown their almost-relationship into sharp relief against they way they had acted before.

Something that formed from quiet conversations and traded stories in the bunker at night of the worst times of their lives and the slow and sometimes desperate kisses that followed those conversations like they could patch up the damage done by other people’s hands. 

But the ratio of blood-to-grace now seems much too much, and Sam is painfully reminded of how low Gabriel’s grace had been entering this world.

He presses his hands over the wound, trying desperately to staunch the flow of red that shouldn’t be, yelling hoarsely to Cas and Dean for cover as he does. 

He drops his voice and tries to shut his eyes against the tears he can feel brimming. Jack is too busy with Michael to call away, no matter how important the situation. And he’s not even sure he could heal Gabriel anyway. 

Gabriel’s eyes are still open most of the, but they’re unfocused and pained, half shut against the light that’s become suddenly too bright. He barely registers Sam’s face, but when he does he smiles weakly. 

“Hey kiddo.” He stumbles a little on the words and Sam breaks. A sob wracks his frame and jolts them both, causing Gabriel to yelp in pain. 

He’s fading fast and even with Dean and Cas fighting the war around them Sam knows that they’ll never get him home alive. 

Sam sits there with him until his eyes drop shut for the last time, stays sitting there even as the last of his grace explodes outwards and burns his wings into the ground around them. 

He thinks that maybe the imprints of a few feathers are scorched into his thighs, but he’s too numb to do anything but hiss quietly in pain. 

He can’t move. Won’t move. Won’t leave his body behind again, especially since he’s sure this one is real. 

He shuts his own eyes tight and for the first time in his life he prays that he’ll open them to ‘Heat of The Moment’ by Asia.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment/kudos if you liked it! I apologise again for killing my fav.


End file.
